


You Can't Get Away From This

by catchingtheblues



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, Second POV, non-con (kissing)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3883324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catchingtheblues/pseuds/catchingtheblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're sixteen when you meet him.<br/>You’re looking for something that won’t be needed soon, then there he is. But he’s different. You saw him once, twice, before. He used to smile. But right now his mouth is in a hard line and you can’t stop thinking about ashes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Get Away From This

**Author's Note:**

> so, the thing about this, it's really, really vague. as in, i don't ever say anyone's name. i felt like it just fit how i was writing. this is the first draft, so i might change it later. i also might write more, i'm not sure yet. it's also in second pov, for stiles.  
> notes about the non-con at the end.

You’re sixteen when you meet him.

You’re looking for something that won’t be needed soon, then there he is. But he’s different. You saw him once, twice, before. He used to smile. But right now his mouth is in a hard line and you can’t stop thinking about ashes.

When he leaves, you tell your friend, recount the story your dad had told you when you were nine, when the sky was bruised with smoke, when Mom wasn’t sick. Someone set a fire, and people died. You remember tearing up at the thought of someone losing their family. After, it wasn’t just a thought, and someone was you.

Something is wrong with your friend. This is your best friend, someone you swore oaths with, someone you know better than you know yourself, someone who traded comics with you, someone you met on the playground when another boy pushed him down. You pushed back. And the crying boy in the sandbox got up and sniffled, said you were awesome. 

You said friends are awesome for each other.

But now your friend is forgetting you. There’s a girl with dimples who’s putting things together. You know things now. You have chains in your closet, a chart of lunar cycles, knowledge in your pocket and cleared Internet history. You lie better on your feet than you ever have. Your dad doesn’t trust you, but he’s safe (later you’ll look back on this and feel stupid. He was never safe—just lucky for a while).

You’re in love with being in love. The girl is an obvious choice—pretty, popular, doesn’t give you a second glance. At one point you did like her, the way her eyes sparkled and the way her hair looked in the sun, but somewhere in you, you know it’s not real. You just want somebody to look at and hope for.

But there he is. At first you can’t stand him, but he just keeps showing up, asking you for help and knowledge. He’s not much of a talker. You talk a lot—too much, people say—but never anything significant. He’s got an awful sense of humor but he smiles at a stupid crack you make and you light up. You’re making him better.

He saves your life. You walked into a trap and when what you thought was innocent becomes a monster, he comes after you. Nobody mentions how he threw himself in danger for you, but you always remember. You crawl over broken glass and, like a coward or someone sane (you never decided which), you ran, left him to fight.

Later the monster will offer you things. He asks too much and uses strength to make you comply. After, he asks what you want.  
And you think of normal—no worrying over full moons, no clearing Internet history of runes and myths (just porn), more worrying about your dad’s cholesterol, not praying he doesn’t get slaughtered.

But that’s not what he’s offering.

He’s trying to sell you. Power. Protection. Love. But all you can think of is waking up in the morning with blood on your hands and no recollection of why. You’re shaking, maybe lying, when you pull away and say no.

(What you don’t tell anyone is how he said you were so, so pretty. He ran a hand down you chest, eyes full of maybes and he kissed you. Hard and positively filthy. He bit a mark on your shoulder you never showed anyone. Later you jerk off and think of being held down and someone snarling.)

The girl is hurt. The girl who will always mean something to you. The monster attacked her and you feel guilty for wanting him but god, his mouth.  
He starts taking more people and the one who saved you kills him. When he tells the people around what he is now, he looks at you with red eyes. You go home and spend a long time in the shower.

And now there’s more. Three more people running wild and something is killing people. You see it firsthand, paralyzed and lying on the floor. You see a man die and your father is asking if you’re okay. You lie. You want to keep him safe.

Things get worse, but you hold up the man who saved your life in the pool for two hours and something is different between you two now. More people die and when you get to do something to help (finally you feel like you can do something), he makes you break the line, break the magic you created. But later he thanks you. He’s watching your lips when you lick them and babble.

After a party, the monster’s back, but he’s not a monster anymore. He pushes you into a corner and kisses your mouth swollen. The one who saved you yanks you into a different corner and asks you questions, snarls at your answers.

You end up on top of the unsmiling man, fully clothed, and paralyzed while your father yells your name. He might die. You might die. And you can’t do a damn thing.  
But (almost) everyone lives. You see a counselor the next day and talk about drowning.

And then you find the man in your room, eyes red, and you kiss him. You kiss him, and he kisses back, and you think, maybe you’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> peter hale kisses an underage stiles, stiles is terrified and can't decide if he likes it.  
> and stiles is of course hella underage.  
> also, i'm wannabeyourcinnamonroll on tumblr!


End file.
